


Peel The Scars From Off My Back, I Don't Need Them Anymore

by CinnamonrollStark



Series: And On and On We Go [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Awesome Pepper Potts, Baby Peter Parker, Cancer, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Peter Parker, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), Mentions of Cancer, Parent Tony, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sick Character, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 14:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonrollStark/pseuds/CinnamonrollStark
Summary: Set three years after Breath Like The Ocean, Love Like The Sea (And In The End You'll Come Back To Me), Peter has been growing up in a wonderful home with loving parents.But when two bombshells drop on the Stark family in one day, drastic measures will have to be taken to insure everyone's continued happiness.





	1. Drift Like Smoke and Rise

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel is here! Man oh man I hope yall are still around for this one. Its gonna be a wild ride! Missed this!

When you are born, you cry as the world rejoices. The objective of life is that, when you die, the world cries, and you rejoice.

Everyone dies. Everyone is born. Expectant parents know that, going in, that what is to come will all end the same. What comes, goes. From dust we come and from dust we will be returned. There will be a line on every tombstone, a dash of time between birth and death, that contains anywhere from minutes to decades of change, growth and memory. As a light grows, a shadow forms. Dust gathers on the mind, it constantly does.

At 2:58 on a Saturday morning in November, Pepper Potts waits at the seat of the toilet, drumming her fingers against her thumbs. A minute to go, and in that minute, endless hours of impatient waiting. The little white stick tips back and forth as her knees bob up and down. Her hair is tied up in a bun at the nape of her neck, and the shorter hairs stick to her skin where sweat has begun to prickle in anticipation.

The word appears without warning. She smiles, and her heart drops. It is wonderful and terrible and incredibly exciting. 

"Oh," she says, running her finger across the block lettering. A tear runs down her face. Dimples form at her cheeks as her smile widens, and she wipes her eyes. Pepper makes sure to wrap the stick in toilet paper and take it with her so she can figure out what to do with it later. 

◇◇◇

Tony has one sworn enemy, at this point and time, which continues to baffle and destroy him at every opportunity.

Baby shoes. Well, toddler shoes, to be more accurate. "They make high top converse for three year olds, can you believe it?"

"No, Tony. Don't do that to him."

Snow boots. They seemed to fit in the store, but are refusing to slip over Peter's growing toes. "Hey bud?"

Peter kicks his little legs up again. Tony rolls his eyes. "Can we stay still?"

Peter giggles and playfully kicks him again. Tony falls back on his ass and pretends to be deathly wounded by the blow.

"Oh God, you got me." Tony falls back the hardwood floor, brown and silver speckled hair fanning out behind him. Peter jumps off the chair and squarely onto Tony's ribcage- which, in truth, is really painful, and the man let's out a wheeze. This just spurns Peter on into a fit of laughter. 

"Jeez, you're built like a tank." Maybe it's being enhanced and whatnot, but the kid is huge for his age. "Littlebit, now that you've given me a mortal injury, can I put your shoes on now?"

Peter lies on Tony's chest and props his tiny face up in his hands. He shakes his head.

"No? Really? I'm not gonna lie, buddy, that's greatly offensive. C'mon, chunk. Sit up."

Tony cups his hands under the toddler's underarms and hauls him up and on to the chair. "Let me get this one shoe on, and I'll get you a juice pop, yeah?"

Peter smiles. "Two."

"How about one for each shoe."

"Okay."

Pepper appears in the hallway. "Are you guys almost ready?" She eyes Peter's shocked feet and her shoulder sink. "Really? Not one shoe?"

"We worked out a deal."

Pepper crosses her arms.

"Sweets for good behavior. Just give me two seconds."

She laughs and shakes her head. "You've got to stop with the sweets. He'll get cavities."

Tony looks up, cocks his head. "Can he even get cavities? I mean, like, he's a super baby, right?"

Pepper's brow furrows. "Well, I guess, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

One boot slips over the toddler's foot. Tony holds up a finger. "You'll get your juice pops after you comply, okay?" 

Peter pouts, and manages not to kick as Tony pops the other shoe over his foot.

"I think I'm gonna have to build something to do this for me. Putting on your shoes is a helluva workout."

Pepper rolls her eyes and chuckles, twirling the key for the car around her finger. "I'll get the car warmed up- no juice pops in the car, okay? It gets it all sticky."

And that it does. Ten minutes into the car ride, Peter pulls a rogue juice pop from his coat pocket and begins to lick at it. Smears of the melted stuff end up all over the carpeted interior. They don't really mind. This wouldn't be the first time. 

Tony and Pepper hold hands as she drives them to the hospital. They hold hands then, and later too, across the desk of the radiologist. The grip tightens. The worry increases. The warmth in Pepper's belly shifts and rises like smoke and burns her insides.

The thing is, we all come and go. We form out of millions of molecules and later separate and disperse into the same. But to find that the dispersal will come sooner, the dash on the tombstone potentially shorter, knocks the breath out of you. 

The iceberg in the ocean in the path of the shop is found in the right breast. A mass the size on a plum, found on a night of fun. Soft and hard and movable.

"What's this?" He asked, gently pressing the lump.

She flinched under the covers, unaware of the pain before now. He lead her hands to the raised patch of skin, where she felt and felt and let the panic sink into her chest.

And the ship collides with the iceberg. Water pours in. Passengers abort the vessel. The captain stayd planted. Precious cargo remains in danger.

Peter doesn't understand what's going on, not really. He doesn't know what a mammogram is, or what it means, or what the BRCA 2 gene implies. He plays with the legos in the corner, and let's the words drift right past him.

The car ride home is quieter. Mom and Dad no longer hold hands. Peter's sticky finger grip the headrest of his mother's seat, and peers over the cushion. Her strawberry blonde hair waves across her eyes in the heat. Pete touches the sides of her forehead and wonders why she seems so sad.

He looks to his father, who has tears in his eyes, and wishes to reach out and wipe them away. It's such an instinctive feeling, a pull at the heart of a child so young, but so old deep in his heart.

Enemies like shoes seem so small as they step out of the car. Pepper holds her arms so tightly against her chest, and at first, one could mistake this for a brace against the chill. Yet, here, she is holding herself up and together, one touch or snowflake away from toppling over and splitting apart. 

Winter wind stings her cheeks and her hair flies and twirls behind her. Tony lifts their son from the car and holds him against his chest. A morning so simple is far beyond them in the rearview. Peter sinks into the chest and watches his mother face the cold.

Her head tilts back to look at them, eyes and nose reddened. Her ginger eyelashes flutter, catching snowflakes in the feather grasp. "It will work out," she whispers, maybe to herself, maybe to her husband and child.

In truth, it wont. She knows what she must do- but she will need Banner's help.

For now, she must decide if and how to break the news to Tony. She smiles, an expression deceiving of faith. She knows her dash has been shortened. But she will not have the world weep for her as she rejoices. 

In the quiet of the drive, she has made a plan. But she will work out the details later.

 Peter runs his fingers through his father's beard, unaware that the world is about to change around him once again.


	2. What Is Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper investigates her options.  
> Elsewhere, Peter enjoys a summer day with the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all like it so far! Sorry it's been a while. Also- yall I'm so excited. 4H camp is like two days away- it's one of my favorite things EVER! So wish that I have fun, I want it to be my best time there. But in other news, man, I've got to keep focused one story lol.

Ribs expand against tight, tan skin. Water runs down her spine and over her shoulders, the smell of garnier wafting up and around her in the steam. _Breathe in, breathe out_.

Tony sits on the tile floor, not far from her, feet pressed up against the sink across from him. Pepper hugs her thighs against her chest and rests her chin on the valleys of her knees. Wet hair hangs down against her neck. 

"You're beautiful." he says, and maybe it's the only thing he can say to comfort her, but he truly means it. The real of her eyes, the curls of her hair, her smooth skin; Pepper is a litteral godess in his eyes.

"You don't have to do that," she mumbles against her kneecaps.

"I'm not doing anything."

She takes in a deep breath and blows the flowing water out of her face.

"You don't have to make me feel better."

_Breathe in, breathe out_.

"No, I'm not- honestly I could care less..." it's s lame attempt at humor. He stops himself. "You're beautiful, Pep."

She shakes her head and props her elbows against her legs. Her hair hangs in her eyes and she brushes it back. 

"What about me?"

"Your eyes. Your skin. Your hair. You."

She laughs bitterly. "Well you can forget about the skin and hair- chemo will fuck all that up."

"Who says we have to do chemo?" Asks Tony, waving steam from the shower out of his face. "With the tech that we have-"

"Tech doesn't solve everything, Tony. It can't." She tries to get him to meet her eyes, but he's looking at the wall just behind her. He can't face what's happening. He doesn't have to look at her if he doesn't want to; he has that right.

"I'm just saying, we can keep our options open, Pep. We don't have to decide, right now."

Pepper feels quite suddenly a wave of frustration. She combes her wet hair with her fingers against the sides of her head. "Except, my body is killing me from the inside out, right? I have a two-inch wide tumor in my chest, Tony, and- who knows how far it's spread. It's not like we have a century to decide."

Except, she's already made her decision. It's a complicated one, and she's not quite sure of the specifics- but Tony can never know. Were he to find out- it would be better off for him if she were to die. But she's scared, and frustrated, so it's not like she's making this up. Yet, it still breaks her heart to see how hurt Tony is.

He looks down at the floor and nods, and Pepper pretends not to notice the tear that falls down the ridge of his nose. He wipes his cheek swiftly, and looks up at her. "You know it will all be okay, right?" He asks, more of a wish than a question. "You've got to be."

"I know," agrees Pepper, holding her secret to her chest, feeling the weight of it with each inhale, each exhale. She gives him the best smile she can manage, and he clambers over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, getting his clothes skin wet in the process. "I love you." he whispers, a choked sound against her neck.

◇◇◇

In a perfect world, they would've been a family. That perfect world, it was achievable in some universes, but unfortunately, this was not the case, here. Peter watches from the seat of a folding chair as Morgan jumps into the water. 

"Don't breathe it in, Morgs," he calls when she resurfaces. "Brain eating bugs in the water."

Pepper smacks him on the back of the head, and crosses to her own pool chair. She's tan, wearing a sleek, black onepeice. "He's joking, baby." She looks up at Peter, eyes furrowed. "You're joking, right?"

Happy looks up from his spot on the beach towel, sunglasses tipped on the bridge of his nose. "Actually, it's not too far off- it's a real thing, an amoeba that forms in stagnant water. This guy down in Texas got it earlier this year, he was on the news."

"And?"

"He died."

Pepper looks up at the swimming eight year old and grimaces. "Just, don't snort the water, honey."

"Okay!" Shouts the girl from the water. 

Peter takes a sip of his beer, the bottle sweating into his palm. Behind his glasses, the view is tanned and warm. It feels as if nothing could go wrong- which, Peter knows better than to truly think, as whatever can go wrong, will. He digs his toes into the warm sand and let's out a sigh.

It's been about three years now, since he's seen Tony's face. He never told of his travels, of his discoveries. To let Pepper know that Tony was alive in another universe, with another version of her, as a family- he couldn't do that to her. As Morgan grows, her features resemble him more and more.

It was the right choice, to send him back. He didn't think so at the time, was so terribly distraught at having to lose him again- it took a good lot of therapy, mental breakdowns, panic attacks, and tears, to finally see the benifit in returning home. Yes, Tony was gone, but Peter was still here. Alive. He had to savor the beauty of what he was given in the time he was allowed. There were people that needed him, loved him, cared about him-

And in that, he had found peace with Pepper and Morgan. In Happy. In Rhodey. In any of the avengers he had the pleasure of coming across. They were peices of a life he was denied, a life lived long at Tony's side; how dearly he wished to be a part of that life, but in some way, this made up for it.

Peter looks up the sky and watches summer clouds, fluffy with wind and water, drift across the vast valley of blue, and wishes that Tony gets a life as good as this one.

◇◇◇

Pepper has to wait until Tony goes to bed to make the call. Her legs shake as she slides off the bed, where Tony and their son lay. She tucks strands of hair behind her ears and takes in a deep breath.

The numbers feel out of place as she dials them, as she hasn't done this, or better yet, thought of it before. 

When news surfaced about neurosurgeon Steven Strange become a master of the mystic arts, numbers and emails (some fake, some not) circulated around Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Pepper remembers the day she saved the number, in case she would ever need it.

The day, not long after the older Peter had returned to his old world, that Tony was so depressed he was confined to his bed. The day Pepper vowed that if it came down to it, she would find some way to bring Peter back- and this time, for good. They'd had no time to figure things out, when they'd sent him away.  He was near death, and wouldn't survive much longer in their world- but if Tony were to cross over to Peter's world would it affect him as much?

Pepper has to find the answer. Because, if she doss, and it is what she was hoping for, the plan can be set into action. As the dial tone beeps in her ear, Pepper closes her eyes and prays that she can do what is beat for her family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So are you catching on to what Pepper might do? Its gonna get INTENSE


End file.
